


The Cruise

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when you discover that your best friend's boyfriend is only with him for the money? Why send them off on a cruise, of course. Ron doesn't entirely understand Pansy's plan. But for Harry's sake, he hopes she knows what she's doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cruise

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hd_fluff's July prompt: Cruise (LJ). 
> 
> Warning: Kind of cracky, mild OOC (Anthony Goldstein)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.

“I  **hate**  Harry’s boyfriend!”  
  
Pansy jumped, momentarily startled as her husband of two years barrelled into their living room- his face as red as his hair. She sighed and flicked her hair back, resuming the far more important task of nail filing. “Yes, darling. You’ve mentioned that before.”  _A couple thousand times,_  she considered adding.   
  
Not that she blamed him. She wasn’t that fond of Potter’s new beau herself. Anthony Goldstein was handsome enough, but there was a…quality to him she couldn’t quite reconcile with. Not to mention, the man was spoilt, entitled and whiny. Honestly, even Potter should have enough sense to drop that one like last month’s Celestina Warbeck record.  
  
Ron slumped next to her, looking tired and weary. “You don’t understand,” he muttered. “I overheard the little prick chittering with his gaggle of fellow boy toys in Diagon Alley today.”  
  
Pansy ceased the nail filing. “You eavesdropped on Potter’s boyfriend?” she demanded, raising an eyebrow. “Honestly love, there’s a fine line between friendship and bromance.”  
  
She grinned as Ron shuddered at that. However when he looked up at her with serious, blue eyes, she sighed and dropped the nail file. “I’m all ears.”  
Ron ran an agitated hand through his hair. “He said…he said he was only dating Harry for his money.”  
  
Pansy pursed her lips as she considered that. Apparently, her first impression of Goldstein had been spot on. She understood the concept, of course. Pansy had always expected to marry into money herself, in accordance with her father’s wishes.   
  
And then Ron had barrelled into her life, wielding a text book and babbling about how he was going to fail Charms because Granger wouldn’t help him anymore and that she was his last hope. Pansy had been somewhat blindsided, to tell the truth. She hadn’t even considered herself a passable student until then. She had never been the smart one or the funny one or the anything. She’d just always been…pretty. And most boys only cared about getting their paws under her skirt.   
  
So, she had shrugged and informed the tall, lanky ginger that if it was grades he wanted,  _she_  was probably not his best bet. At which Ron had thrown his arms up in exasperation and declared “For Merlin’s  _sake_ , Parkinson! You’re one of the smartest girls I know! Don’t make me beg, okay? I’m one step from failing this stupid class!”  
  
Pansy said yes. And two years after that, she said yes again and let him slip a slim, golden ring on her finger. There was no diamond, and she really didn’t care. It had taken one freckled, earnest boy -who couldn’t do a simple cheering charm to save his life- for her to look at herself in the mirror and see someone worthy and smart and good. And if Daddy wanted to throw a fit about it, he was welcome to.  
  
Everyone deserved to find someone who made them feel that way- even someone as infuriatingly noble as Potter. And she grudgingly conceded, Potter certainly didn’t deserve to be taken advantage of by the likes of Anthony Goldstein.  
  
“Well, obviously we can’t allow that,” she said finally.  
  
Ron nodded firmly. “I’ll go talk to him right now,” he declared.  
  
Pansy raised an eyebrow. “And have Goldstein outtalk you as soon as he sees Potter again? Ron, I love you to death but honestly a cheese sandwich could trounce you in an argument.”  
  
Ron huffed and put his head on her shoulder, letting her run her fingers through his ginger locks. “Well, what else am I supposed to do? He’s my best friend, Pans. I can’t just sit here and…”   
  
He trailed off as Pansy regarded him with dark eyes and a sultry smile. “You have an ex Slytherin in your corner, darling. If you want help, just ask.”  
Ron gaped at her. “You think you can…”  
  
“Leave it to me.”   
  
She squeaked as she was suddenly enveloped in a crushing hug. Ron hauled her up into his lap, wrapping strong, warm arms around her. “ _Thank_  you,” he mumbled fervently into her neck. “You’re a life saver. I don’t know what I would do without you.”  
  
“Probably a lot of stupid, Gryffindor things,” she smiled, ruffling his hair. “Run along now and let me plot in peace.”  
  
He smiled, kissed her cheek and released her, before getting up. Pansy watched his retreating back, her throat oddly tight.   
  
“Ron.”  
  
He turned back, and those earnest blue eyes seemed to look right into her. Pansy swallowed thickly.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Ron grinned and marched over again, swooping down on her. Pansy blinked as she found herself on her back against the couch, and Ron’s lips pressed against her own. “Plot later,” he murmured, trailing kisses down her neck and nipping at her collarbone. “I’ve just thought of something a lot more fun for us to do.”  
  
And as always, she said yes.  
                                                                                                      

* * *

  
  
**A week later…**

  
Harry palmed the tickets, grinning at his best friend. “Cruise tickets?” he repeated incredulously. “Mate, this is too much. You feel that guilty about missing my birthday?”   
  
Ron shuffled about, as awkward as ever with anything approaching The Emotion Zone. “Pansy’s idea,” he explained gruffly. “She figured you and…and Anthony could use some alone time and well, there you go.”           
  
The name left a bitter taste in his mouth and Ron was half considering snatching the tickets back and  _Incendioing_  them on the spot. He was  _so_  not following this plan. In his limited experience, the idea was to keep Goldstein  _away_  from Harry.   
  
But Pansy had been very clear. Harry and his boyfriend had to be on  _that_  ship for her plan to go forward. And as loath as Ron was to let his best friend spend any alone time with Anthony Gold-digger, he was also aware that his wife was a very pretty, very smart and very dangerous woman. If Pansy had a plan, he for one was not going to stand in her way.  
  
“Honestly Ron,” Harry was saying. “You and Pansy should take these. Me and Anthony…well, I don’t think we’re there yet.”  
  
Well, at least that was good news. Nevertheless, Ron was a man on a mission.  _The plan,_  he told himself firmly before turning back to his friend.   
“Just take them, Harry. This might be just what you need. You know, maybe you’ll get to know him better.”  
  
Harry didn’t appear to read into his cleverly disguised code message. He smiled, shrugged and accepted the tickets. “Well thanks, mate. This is great. Be sure to get Pansy some flowers from me.”  
  
“Hands off my wife, Potter,” Ron grinned, punching him in the shoulder. They laughed and bantered and fooled around like teenagers for a bit. But even so, Ron couldn’t quite get his mind off this cruise thing. He only hoped Pansy knew what she was doing.  
  
                                                                                            

* * *

  
**Two weeks later…**

  
“Harry, this is  _brilliant!_ ” Anthony squealed as they stood out on the deck, taking in breath-taking view the ocean. “I can’t believe we’re doing this together! I’ve been meaning for us to go on a vacation for  _months_  now.”  
  
“I’m glad you’re having fun,” Harry replied affably. Privately, he wasn’t so sure they should be doing this. He and Anthony had only been together for a few months or so and it seemed a little too soon to take a trip together. Well, nothing to do for it now. Anthony had been ecstatic when Harry had shown him the tickets and long story short, they were taking the trip.   
  
Shrugging to himself, Harry turned his gaze back to the open water, marvelling at the sight of the open, blue ocean before him.  
  
 _The Silver Mermaid_  had just left port and was making for open seas, churning the ocean and leaving a trail of white foam in her wake. She was a ‘fully equipped magical luxury liner’- something Harry didn’t quite understand. Everything looked fairly muggle so far, even if the guests were clearly wizards and witches. Harry had spotted more than one wand among the milling crowd and a few guests had plodded on with magically enlarged suitcases-something he definitely recognized from his Hogwarts days.   
  
A server walked by levitating a stack of dishes over to the buffet table. She smiled warmly and reminded them not to attempt apparition or floo travel while on open water. Okay, so maybe some of it was magical. But otherwise it looked pretty standard. Then again, Harry had never actually been on a cruise before- muggle or magical- so he couldn’t judge.   
  
Their room was fairly ordinary too- a simple cabin done up in beige and red with a porthole looking out to the sea. Harry thought it was brilliant, until Anthony had sniffed disparagingly and immediately demanded a suite  _with_  a hot tub. It had taken 45 minutes of back and forth, with the occasional foot stomp from Anthony, but the staff had finally relented.   
  
Harry tried not to let it get to him. He liked Anthony well enough, but he could be…tough at times. And childish and irritating and…Harry shook his head.  _Everyone_  had their flaws, he reminded himself firmly. Granted, Anthony had a few more than most people but that didn’t mean…  
  
“Let’s go take a look around,” Anthony demanded suddenly, tugging at his arm.   
  
Harry allowed himself to be shepherded around the ship by his excited boyfriend. By noon, he figured he had the whole thing mapped. From the casino to the gift shops, from the spa to the pool, the gym and the theatre…Merlin, it was a whole city on the water. Somewhere along the line, someone had handed him an entire activity plan for the evening. Harry skimmed through it with mild interest.   
  
Dance classes, water aerobics, the buffet and a stand-up comedy act in the main theatre. Harry skimmed through that with interest. That could be fun. And he was pretty sure Anthony wouldn’t mind, so long as he got to visit the shopping gallery first. Harry winced as he wondered what that would cost. Anthony certainly liked his presents.  
  
“I’m starved,” his boyfriend declared finally. “Let’s go eat.”  
  
“Alright,” Harry agreed. “We can just go to the buffet and grab something.”  
  
Anthony scrunched up his nose at that. “ _That_  cheap fare? No, we’ll go to one of those ritzy places on the upper deck. I’m in the mood for filet mignon.”  
Harry sighed and surrendered himself to being tugged around again, wondering absently why he had let Ron talk him into this.

 

* * *

    
  
That evening, Harry found himself settled in the theatre section. He shifted in his seat and squinted, trying to read the program.  Unfortunately the light was too dim, and Anthony chewing his ear off wasn’t making it any easier.   
  
“This is  _boring_ , Harry! Can’t we just go back to the spa? I could use another massage. All this  _tension_  is getting to me.”  
  
Harry had half a mind to ask him what kind of  _tension_  he was experiencing on board a luxury liner with every possible facility one could hope for. But he really wasn’t in the mood for another tantrum. It had taken an hour to talk Anthony into seeing the comedy act and another two to get him here. Harry however, had been firm to the point of stubborn. They had done what Anthony wanted all day. Harry hadn’t wanted to spend three hours at the meditation centre or the spa, but he’d done it. Anthony could just deal with the comedy act.  
  
It was easier said than done though. Anthony just wouldn’t stop complaining. “Let’s go back to the room, Harry,” he pouted. Harry sighed as his boyfriend trailed a hand down his chest. “We can put that hot tub to good use.”  
  
“I want to stay here,” Harry gritted. “This is the best act on the ship. Let’s just have some laughs, and we can go back to the room later.”  
  
“But I don’t  _want_  to…”  
  
A sudden round of applause echoed, mercifully cutting him off. “Hush,” Harry whispered, as an attendant scurried on stage and cast a quick  _Sonorus._  “It’s starting.”  
  
Anthony scowled and crossed his arms petulantly, and Harry ignored him. His entire attention was on the stage.  _Finally,_  some entertainment.   
  
A figure moved on the stage, shadowed by the dim lighting. A rumble of anticipation travelled through the crowd and there was some scattered applause. Harry frowned and craned his neck to get a better look at the comedian. He was slim and tall, Harry surmised as he walked - _sauntered_ , really-up on the stage. Blond? Probably. As a matter of fact, when the lights hit him at a certain angle he almost looked like…  
  
“Evening, ladies. And…whoever’s paying for them.”  
  
Tentative laughter rumbled through the crowd but Harry stiffened. That  _voice_. He knew that voice. The lights flickered, brightening a bit. Harry’s breath caught.  
  
Blond.  _Definitely_  blond. Sharp, grey eyes. A telling smirk.   
  
The spotlight went on with a blinding flash and Harry gasped.  
  
Oh. Dear. Merlin.  
  
“Is he…” Anthony began.  
  
“Yeah,” Harry croaked. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.  
  
Malfoy smirked down at the crowd, brushing some imaginary lint of his suit.   
  
“Well, it’s nice to see a new crowd aboard,” he drawled. “You know, I really love this gig. The only place in the world where you can actually hear a conversation that goes like… _Look honey, a whale! A whale? Where’s the camera?! Aw, too late. She went back to the sushi bar._ ”  
  
Harry managed a surprised bark of laughter despite himself, joining in the crowd. Malfoy grinned, tossing his blond hair back as he prowled the platform. Harry watched, still half in shock. But even utterly blindsided, he couldn’t help noticing how…natural Malfoy looked up there. He took a moment to survey the crowd; grey eyes dancing with mirth and laughter. A reluctant smile tugged at Harry’s lips too. Malfoy was definitely having fun. He craned his neck, watching with renewed interest.  
  
“He’s not that funny,” Anthony hissed urgently.  
  
Harry waved him off impatiently. He wanted to see what Malfoy would do next.  
  
“So we have a pretty good sports centre here,” Malfoy drawled on. “I’m guessing about…four of you checked it out.”   
  
Harry grinned as Malfoy gestured dismissively. He  _remembered_  that from Hogwarts.   
  
“No Quidditch, though. Shame, really. Y’know, we had a Quidditch set up some time back, but we kept ending up with people trying to shove seagulls in the hoops…it got a little hard to keep score.  _It’s got wings! It’s a snitch, damn it!_ ”  
  
The crowd laughed again as Malfoy adopted an exaggerated American accent for his impression and Harry found himself grinning with them. From his far right, a woman suddenly called out.   
  
“You’re  _hot!_ ”  
  
Malfoy practically preened at that. He grinned down at the woman, approaching her slowly. “Oh look, another comedian. And where are you from, lovely? What’s that? Italy. Are you a real Italian or a New York Italian?” Another titter went up and Malfoy raised his voice a bit. “Cause New York Italians… well you know right? It’s like being Irish in Boston. It’s just…”   
  
He got a few good laughs for a while, heckling people from the audience. Malfoy kept the tempo up, interspersing his routine with a few digs at the audience. His ribbing was well natured and in good humour though, and the people clearly enjoyed it.   
  
By the time he was done, Harry had to admit he was having difficulty sitting straight. Malfoy was…well, he was  _funny_. His impressions were spot on, he had great presence and it didn’t hurt that he looked fucking amazing standing there on that stage, like he owned it. Even Anthony had mellowed down a bit and had stopped complaining. Harry was feeling rather okay about the whole thing.   
  
Until Malfoy’s eyes landed on  _them_.   
  
Harry froze mid chuckle as the blond met his stare. Grey eyes widened a fraction as the blond stared, stunned out of action. And then Malfoy’s lips stretched in an ominous and altogether evil grin.  
  
Oh  _god_.  
  
“And it just keeps getting better and better,” Malfoy drawled, coming over. Anthony blinked and Harry had to actively resist the urge to dive under the table. Instead, he sat up straight and raised his chin defiantly, steeling himself for Malfoy tearing into him.   
  
The blond smirked at him and raised an eyebrow. Harry’s eyes narrowed. And then Malfoy turned on Anthony.  
  
“Hogwarts boy, am I right?”  
  
Harry gaped and Anthony blinked in surprise. “Yes,” he answered haltingly.  
  
“I can tell them from miles away. So, what house?”  
  
“R-ravenclaw.”  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“Ravenclaw,” Anthony repeated, louder this time.  
  
“No, I heard,” Malfoy shot back blithely. “I’m just sorry.”  
  
Harry choked back a laugh as Anthony sputtered indignantly, but Malfoy was already on the prowl again. Harry settled back on his seat; sitting with his glowering boyfriend and watching Malfoy pick on unsuspecting passengers before stepping back on stage. Somehow Harry was enjoying himself for the first time since he’d stepped on board.  
  
His eyes remained glued to the lithe blond as he turned back to the crowd, a mirthful smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.  
  
“So, I’m going to play my cliché card now and talk about my father for a bit…”  
  
Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard.

* * *

“I can’t  _believe_  him! The nerve! He was…he was picking on me, Harry!”  
  
Harry bit his lip and tried not to smile. They were back in their room after the show and Anthony was in a bit of a strop over Malfoy. Harry supposed that he had adequate reason to be upset. Malfoy had taken digs at him all night long. And it probably didn’t help that Harry had laughed along with everyone else, leaving poor Anthony to gawk and gape and simmer all by himself. He couldn’t help it. It was funny. Still, he rallied forth and tried to soothe his boyfriend’s ire.  
  
“So he made a few jokes about you, Anthony. He’s a comedian. It’s what they do.”  
  
Anthony sniffed and curled up on the bed, looking sulky and put out. “Draco  _Malfoy_ ,” he spat the name out like it was something foul. “It  _was_  him, wasn’t it? What’s a spoilt, little, rich boy like him doing working on a cruise ship anyway?”  
  
Harry considered that. He had asked himself the same question more than once that night. The Malfoy he remembered would never stoop to entertaining the unwashed masses for a living. Then again, he was hard pressed to reconcile the Malfoy he’d seen tonight with his sneering school rival. This Malfoy was confident and charismatic. He’d had the crowd right in the palm of his hand, laughing with them, at them and himself with an air of effortless self-assurance that Harry found intriguing. And not entirely unattractive, if he was being completely honest with himself.   
  
Anthony of course, didn’t share his point of view. “A  _comedian_ ,” he repeated with an overdone shudder. “Talk about  _the_  fall from grace.”  
  
Harry’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t know why but his boyfriend’s attitude was starting to get on his nerves. “There’s nothing wrong with working,” he replied evenly, busying himself with a shirt so that Anthony won’t see him scowling.   
  
“Well, no,” Anthony agreed reluctantly. “But a comedian? Honestly Harry, you have to admit that’s just low.  _He’s_  the real joke here.”  
  
Harry’s mouth twisted and he settled back in bed. “Let it go, Anthony. Let’s just get some rest, yeah?”  
  
Anthony abandoned his tantrum almost at once. He grinned as he sidled up to Harry and trailed a hand down his chest, fingering at the elastic of his pyjama bottoms. His brown eyes sparkled suggestively and he bit his lip. “Or we could have some real fun,” he murmured.  
  
Harry tensed, not entirely sure why that prospect sounded so distasteful. It was Anthony’s attitude towards Malfoy’s new gig, he realized. Harry didn’t really  _want_ to be intimate with his boyfriend after that particular bout of spitefulness.  
  
“I’m knackered, actually,” he offered finally. “Let’s just get some sleep, okay?”   
  
Anthony pouted, but removed his hands. “Fine,” he huffed, turning on his side. “But I’m just putting it out there. I would  _never_  stoop to stand-up comedy to pay my bills. I’d rather starve.”  
  
Harry grit his teeth, unable to keep quiet anymore. “You probably would,” he replied evenly. “You’re certainly not funny enough.”  
  
He ignored Anthony’s gasp of outrage and turned on his own side. Rest didn’t come easily though. His thoughts kept going back to soft, blond hair and grey eyes glinting with mirth and humour. His last thought as he fell asleep was that he was definitely going to catch Malfoy’s show again.  
  
                                                                                                     

* * *

  
  
The next day, Harry could be found taking another circuit of the ship, trying in vain to relax and have a good time. Anthony was still upset about Malfoy and he had spent the entire morning sulking in the room and refusing to venture out into civilisation. Harry had even offered another trip to the shopping arcade, but his petulant boyfriend had been stubborn to the point of mulish.  
  
“You go on and have fun, Harry,” he had declared, eyes bright and chin wobbling. “I just…want to be alone for a while.”  
  
Harry recognized a guilt trip when he saw one. This was his cue to swoop in and coo and coddle and reassure his boyfriend that he would never go off without him and that they could do whatever he liked and so on and so forth. Only, Harry had had it up to  _here_  with Anthony’s silly strop and he was in no mood to humour him anymore.   
  
So he shrugged and told Anthony that he could join him when he felt less distraught. He hadn’t missed the way Anthony’s eyes had widened in surprise as he left. Well, Harry didn’t care. If he wanted to sulk, he could do it alone.  
  
Harry found himself propped up on a railing, enjoying the sea breeze and looking out into the ocean. He thought he saw a dolphin in the distance, but he couldn’t be sure. He definitely saw a school of flying fish though, flitting in and out of the water. Harry grinned. This was wonderful.   
  
“So, there I was…and let me tell you, there is  _no_  good way to tell your dad that you got thrown off the Quidditch team for ‘polishing too many broomsticks’. Worst coming out ever, I swear to Merlin. And speaking of my father…”  
  
Harry turned around as a sudden round of laughter broke out. His eyes widened at the sight of Malfoy, sprawled out on a deck chair and entertaining a gaggle of guests. The crowd fanned out around him, and Malfoy seemed to bask in the attention. Most of them were young witches hanging on to his every word, giggling all the while. A few men were also making their way over- probably after that  _coming out_  comment.   
  
Harry grinned. Ever the showman, Malfoy was.  
  
The blond accommodated them all effortlessly, belting out jokes and insults with flair. He even managing an impromptu impression of Lucius Malfoy that Harry found both hilarious and pretty damn accurate. He found himself watching from a distance, enjoying Malfoy’s impromptu performance as much as his adoring public.  
  
Malfoy seemed to sense that he was being watched, because he turned around. Grey eyes widened a fraction as they caught sight of Harry in an apt imitation of last night. And then Malfoy grinned and got up.   
  
“Excuse me, ladies,” he grinned, making his way through the pouting females. “I’ll see you all at the show tonight, yes? Bring your boyfriends. Gives me something to work with.”  
  
Harry felt his heart speed up just a fraction as the ex Slytherin sauntered over to him. He had thought Malfoy looked…  _good_  on the stage in his suit and tie. But out here on the deck, with the wind tousling his hair, clad in a thin white shirt and denims hanging low on his hips…Merlin, he looked…  
  
“Well, go on,” Malfoy said.  
  
Harry blinked, started out of his reverie. “What?”  
  
Malfoy grinned again and lifted his shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Have at it, Potter. Get it out of your system. I know you want to.”  
  
Harry’s brain finally came up to speed with the conversation and he found himself grinning back. “Make fun of you? I wouldn’t dare.”  
  
“So much for fearless Gryffindors,” Malfoy retorted with a long suffering sigh. Then he turned back to Harry, grey eyes glinting with unrepentant mischief. “Although I daresay you lot take a bit of ribbing a lot better than Ravenclaws.”  
  
Harry flushed, somewhat embarrassed at having to explain Anthony’s behaviour to Malfoy. “He’s just sensitive,” he shrugged apologetically. “Not used to being made fun of, I guess.”  
  
Malfoy cocked his head, looking thoughtful. “You do realize that when a comedian makes fun of you, it’s actually a compliment.”  
  
“Is that why you did it?”  
  
Malfoy laughed again and Harry couldn’t help notice how his whole body went into the action. His eyes sparkled and his frame arched.  Anthony never laughed like that. “Of course not,” Malfoy offered. “He was just…well,  _there_. But if you stick to my story, there’s a chance he’ll let you back in your room and you won’t have to spend the day skulking on the deck all alone.”  
  
Harry’s smile widened. “It’s not so bad,” he offered.  
  
Malfoy raised an eyebrow and gave him a lazy look over that made something inside Harry flutter uncomfortably. “No Potter,” he purred. “It really isn’t.”  
  
Harry swallowed. “So…”  
  
“Harry?”  
  
Harry whipped around, immediately meeting eyes with Anthony standing right behind him. His boyfriend had a shopping bag in his hand (Harry suppressed a groan at that) and he was regarding them with what looked a whole lot like rage.  
  
“Hey,” Harry blurted. “I thought you were back in the room.”  
  
“I went to the arcade for some retail therapy.”  
  
Malfoy coughed, sounding a lot like he was trying to disguise a snort of laughter. Anthony shot him a withering look and the blond replied with a shameless grin. Anthony huffed and turned back to Harry. “I thought I’d find you and we’ll go for lunch. I didn’t realize you had  _company_.”   
  
Even as he said it, he marched over to put a proprietary hand on Harry’s shoulder, giving Malfoy a challenging glare. On Anthony, it just looked petulant. Intimidation was not one of his strong suits. Malfoy was regarding both of them, looking like he was fighting to keep a straight face. If so, he was failing miserably.  
  
“ _We_  should get going, Harry,” Anthony insisted, tugging at his arm.  
  
Harry-who had been trying very hard not to die of embarrassment-was startled when Malfoy spoke up. “Actually, Potter was informing me that I may have gone a bit too far last night,” he drawled, treating Anthony to another lazy shrug. “My apologies. Drawing the line is not exactly a comedian’s forte.”  
  
Harry stopped cringing and froze, staring slack jawed at Malfoy. The blond shot him a quick look before turning back to Anthony. “I hope I didn’t spoil your vacation,” he added with a deceptive hint of sincerity lacing his voice. Harry would have been entirely fooled, if he hadn’t had the benefit of knowing Malfoy rather well.  
  
Anthony was a tad more naïve. He stared at Malfoy, blinking rapidly. “Well, it was  _very_  upsetting,” he sniffed. “But, it’s fine… I suppose. No hard feelings.”  
  
“I’m sure,” Malfoy smirked. “But I’d feel better if I could make it up to the two of you. Can I offer you a couple of front row seats to the next show? As my guests, of course.”  
  
Harry was still trying not to gape. He was…well,  _stunned_  at how easily Malfoy had managed this potentially nasty situation. It was inspiring, really. Even Anthony couldn’t seem to find any fault with the blond’s proposal. “I wasn’t planning to,” he mumbled. “But I suppose we could stop by for a bit.”  
  
Malfoy inclined his head in reply. “Tonight then,” he said, shooting Harry a discreet wink. “I’ll look for you in the crowd.”  
  
And then he was gone. Harry watched him saunter away, his eyes glued to Malfoy’s back until he disappeared to wherever cruise ship comedians go when they’re not working. He barely registered Anthony slipping an arm into his. “Thanks for telling him off, Harry,” he tittered in Harry’s ear. “He’ll think twice about picking on The Saviour’s boyfriend again.”  
  
Harry nodded absently. But he wasn’t as easily taken in as Anthony. Malfoy was up to something and he couldn’t help wondering just what it was.  
  
                                                                                                              

* * *

  
  
As it happened, Harry found out what Malfoy had been planning that very evening.  
  
“The nerve of him!” Anthony shrieked as he stormed into their room later that night. “I can’t  _believe_  he pulled such a stunt!”  
  
Harry trudged in after him, half caught between amusement and annoyance. Well, no one could say that Malfoy hadn’t kept his end of the bargain. He’d steered clear of Anthony all through the show, not even sparing him a cursory glance.  
  
That being said, he had certainly gone for Harry. The entire night, Malfoy had peppered his routine with random digs and punches at Harry, who was strategically caught right in the front and couldn’t exactly make a break for safety without causing a scene.   
  
Not that he wanted to, Harry conceded. Malfoy had been on fire and he had certainly made the best of his routine at Harry’s expense. But there was no doubt that most of his taunts had been rather…suggestive. It was a huge contrast to how he’d made fun of Anthony the night before. Those jokes had been borderline insulting.   
  
This time, Malfoy had been risqué- commenting on everything from how tight Harry’s shirt was to how his hair looked like he’d just been shagged. At some point, he got the audience to join in and Harry had been treated to an evening of catcalls and appreciative applause. It had been embarrassing but certainly not bad. Harry was sporting enough to take a joke and he had to admit, Malfoy’s blatant flirting was certainly not unwelcome. It was harmless fun, after all. Malfoy was trying to pep up his routine and Harry hadn’t exactly hated having an attractive blond lavish him with attention.   
  
All in all, he had laughed just as much as anyone else and certainly enjoyed himself.  
  
Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Anthony. His boyfriend had spent the evening pouting and glaring at Malfoy, with a hand digging possessively into Harry’s arm. Not that it had deterred Malfoy in the slightest. He just kept throwing them out there, much to Anthony’s chagrin.  
  
“He was just being… Malfoy,” Harry offered finally.  
  
“He was  _flirting_  with you!” Anthony hissed. “How dare he? I knew that whole apology thing was a trick! He wanted to embarrass me again!”  
  
“He didn’t say a word about you!” Harry protested.   
  
“He certainly went after you though!” Anthony shrilled. He stopped to glare accusingly at Harry, taking a good look at him. “You wore that tight shirt on purpose!” he declared finally. “You…you  _wanted_  him to do it!”  
  
Harry gaped for a whole ten seconds before succumbing to laughter. Anthony went an impressive shade of vermillion. “And you’re laughing at me!” he shrieked.  
  
“Of course I am. You’re being ridiculous,” Harry managed. “I can’t believe you actually think that, Anthony. That’s a whole new level of stupid.”  
  
“So now I’m stupid?” Anthony demanded. His lower lip trembled and before Harry knew what was happening, his boyfriend had burst into tears.  
  
Harry groaned. “Oh come on, Anthony. I didn’t mean it like…”  
  
Anthony continued to bawl into his hands and Harry rolled his eyes, getting up and placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “Stop crying, please? Come on Anthony, it’s really not that big a deal.”   
  
“It is!” Anthony shrilled, stamping his foot like an angry child. “That…that  _Malfoy_  is flirting with  _my_  boyfriend and he’s making fun of me and…and it’s just horrible! I hate this stupid cruise and I want to go home!”  
  
Harry grit his teeth in irritation and removed his hand. Anthony sniffed and gave him a watery glare, but Harry had just about had enough. “You’re being an idiot,” he declared. “And you need to learn to take a damn joke.”  
  
“Well, if that’s the way you feel then fine!” Anthony hissed, wrenching away from him. “I’ll just go drown my sorrows by myself! Have fun on this stupid cruise with Malfoy!”  
  
He stomped off in a huff, and Harry was not the least bit surprised to see him make for the shopping arcade again. Honestly, he should just pitch a tent in there.  
  
Harry shook his head and settled into bed, half wondering if he should go after Anthony. It really didn’t seem worth it. And to tell the truth, he didn’t miss him. Not really.  
  
He sighed and turned on his side, preparing to sleep. And if the memory of Malfoy’s snarky comments and his mischievous grin made him chuckle a bit, Anthony didn’t have to know.  
  
                                                                                                         

* * *

  
  
By Day Five, Harry was seriously considering jumping ship and swimming for his life. He figured he’d get more peace on a desert island. Anywhere than on this blighted cruise ship. Anthony was sulky and put out, and it had taken all of Harry’s limited self-control not to give in to the urge to toss him into the pool. The man was being plain unreasonable. Harry hadn’t done anything to invite this sheer deluge of sniffling and whinging and mutterings about going home. For Merlin’s sake, he hadn’t even seen Malfoy since then.  
  
Well, he had  _seen_  him. Malfoy made it a point to prowl the deck every morning, taking in the sun, wading in the pool and all the while looking unbelievably attractive. He seemed to do just fine on his own, although sooner or later Harry would find him entertaining a crowd somewhere with impromptu routines and performances. It was…endearing actually. Malfoy had always loved attention, and he seemed to have a knack for entertaining. Harry often found himself watching him- but from a distance, and he made a concerted effort not to approach the blond anymore. No matter his intentions, it troubled Anthony. And even if he was being unreasonable, he was Harry’s boyfriend and well…relationships were built on compromise, right? Not that Anthony had ever compromised on anything. But still…  
  
Harry’s musings were rudely interrupted by a sudden dousing of cold water. He sputtered and flailed and gaped around wildly, thoroughly unsurprised to see Malfoy standing in front of him. Malfoy who had apparently just emerged from the pool, dripping wet and clad in nothing but a pair of green swimming trunks.  
  
“Very amusing,” Harry grumbled, drying himself off with a quick charm. Malfoy grinned shamelessly and sprawled in the deck chair beside him, still wet and toned and inexplicably sexy.   
  
Just bloody perfect.  
  
“Let you off the leash, did he?” he asked, turning his head to survey Harry lazily.  
  
“Oh stop it,” Harry grumbled. “You’re just trying to tick him off.”  
  
“But naturally,” Malfoy smirked. “It’s not my fault he’s so insecure that a simple conversation between two people gets to him.”  
  
Harry had half a mind to stage a protest at that, but found he really didn’t have words. Anthony was insecure. Frightfully so. In the beginning of their relationship, it had been somewhat endearing. Now it just got on his nerves. Harry sighed and rallied to change the subject. “You were very funny,” he offered. “On stage.”  
  
“Enjoyed the show, did you?”  
  
 _Not as much as I’m enjoying this one,_  Harry considered, taking in Malfoy’s toned body spread out indolently beside him. The blond seemed to read his thoughts. He smirked and raised an eyebrow at Harry who flushed and immediately busied himself with some sunscreen. “You were very entertaining,” he repeated firmly.   
  
Malfoy laughed; a husky chuckle that went straight to Harry’s groin. “Oh Potter,” he drawled. “You have no idea how entertaining I can be.”  
  
Harry’s breath escaped with a frustrated  _whoosh._ “Malfoy, I…”  
  
“Oh relax,” Malfoy drawled. “I’m taking the piss. Your little boyfriend has nothing to worry about, Potter. I don’t hook up with committed men.”  
  
Harry nodded, registering relief and ignoring the slight pang of disappointment. “That’s…good,” he offered finally.    
  
“Mm,” Malfoy replied noncommittally. “But if you enjoyed the show that much, you should stop by again. I’ve got some new material planned and I rarely disappoint.”  
  
“I’ll bet,” Harry retorted, quirking an eyebrow as Malfoy grinned. He considered it. Truth be told, he liked seeing Malfoy on stage. He was good at what he did, and definitely easy on the eyes. But he couldn’t risk it. Not after Anthony’s last blow out. “I probably shouldn’t,” he murmured regretfully.  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes and slumped back in the deck chair. “You know,” he said slowly. “You  _are_  allowed to do some things you enjoy. There’s no rule against it, to the best of my knowledge.”  
  
“I know that,” Harry protested indignantly.  
  
“Prove it,” Malfoy challenged. “Lose the leash and come to my show. Have a laugh. And go back to the little Ravenclaw.”  
  
Harry scowled at the obvious gauntlet. “Fine,” he relented. “I’ll be there.”  
  
“Well, if you insist,” Malfoy smirked. “Front row, Potter. Best seat in the house.”      
  
Harry was about to reply when a stocky redhead ambled over to them. He stopped and grinned at Malfoy. “I love your show, mate. You were hilarious,” he announced.   
  
Harry bristled on instinct as Malfoy grinned in acknowledgement. “Thank you,” he replied smoothly.   
  
Ginger grinned back and scrubbed his hair awkwardly. “So me and my mates were going down to the bar for a drink. Care to join?”  
  
“Free drinks. Best part of the gig,” Malfoy drawled, getting up and stretching. Harry didn’t miss the way the ginger’s eyes roved Draco’s slim frame. Something inside him rumbled ominously and he clenched his fists.  
  
“Actually Draco,” he found himself saying. “I was hoping you’d join me for a pint.”  
  
Malfoy and Ginger whipped around to look at him. Malfoy’s eyes danced with mirth and Ginger’s glowered. Harry held his stare firmly, feeling oddly territorial. Of course, he was just trying to protect Malfoy from skeevy cruise goers. It wasn’t like he…  
  
“Well,” Malfoy spoke up, giving the ginger a regretful shrug. “Another time, maybe.”  
  
Ginger muttered under his breath and trudged off. Harry watched his back until he was well out of sight, before turning back to Malfoy. “For shame, Potter,” he drawled. “You didn’t even let me ask if he had a boyfriend.”  
  
Harry’s jaw tightened. “Save it for the stage, you brat,” he muttered, taking his arm and ushering him forward. “Now come on. I’m buying you a drink before you get yourself into any more trouble.”  
  
Malfoy followed obediently, and Harry just  _knew_  that he was still smirking.  
                                                                                                          

* * *

  
  
An hour at the bar turned into an all-night conversation. Harry found himself having a great time, until Malfoy announced that he had to be on stage in ten. He had then proceeded to make a few more off-colour remarks about leashes and Ravenclaws, at which Harry had belligerently stalked into the theatre and sat through Malfoy’s performance for the third time in a week.  
  
He enjoyed himself, although he suspected that he’d been tricked into it.  
  
After the show, Malfoy had offered to spring for dinner and Harry found himself accepting. He was pleasantly surprised to find that under all his sass and wit, Malfoy was an intelligent and serious conversationalist. He had a unique world view and seemed to use a lot of his own observations in his routine. Harry had to admit he was enjoying himself. It had been a while since he’d just talked with someone. The extent of Anthony’s conversation revolved around the latest fashions in dress robes and Harry’s Gringotts vault. Malfoy seemed to care little and less about those things. He was passionate and intelligent and interested in a world beyond the confines of the shopping arcade.  
  
“So after the war, I figured I needed to broaden my horizons on muggle culture,” he was saying. “Read some books, travelled a bit. Sooner or later, I stumbled into a comedy club hosting an impromptu talent contest. I guess that’s when I knew I was going to do it.”  
  
“Were you any good?” Harry grinned and forked his salad about. The food was great, even if they were sitting at the buffet. Malfoy didn’t seem to mind standard ship fare. He shovelled it in with gusto, at ease and comfortable with his surroundings. It was a refreshing change for Harry, and he found himself really  _liking_ this Malfoy. Draco. He liked Draco.  
  
“Awful,” he replied, answering Harry’s question. “I stuttered and stammered and basically got kicked off the stage in five minutes flat. But I was always good at impressions. Did I ever show you my Snape?  _Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter._ ”  
  
Harry dropped his fork. “That’s… disturbingly accurate,” he offered.  
  
“Why, thank you,” Draco preened, dodging as Harry flicked an olive at him. “Well, long story short. I kept at it, and I got better. And then I landed this gig and…”  
  
“What does your father have to say about all of this?” Harry asked curiously.  
  
Draco shrugged. “He’s not happy,” he offered. “But he doesn’t get to tell me what to do anymore. I think he’s accepting that… slowly and painfully.”  
  
Harry smiled and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “I’m glad,” he replied sincerely.  
  
Draco replied with a timid half smile, looking almost boyish. Harry could feel the warmth of his body through that thin shirt and it was with a pang of regret that he removed his hand.  _Anthony,_  he reminded himself firmly. The fact that that voice was getting weaker and weaker didn’t escape his notice though. Harry sighed. What had he gotten himself into?  
  
“You’re not half bad, Potter,” Draco said suddenly. He regarded Harry with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “This was…I had fun.”  
  
“Me too,” Harry replied softly.    
  
They sat in silence and Harry could swear he wasn’t the only one feeling the tension. “Draco?” he murmured.  
  
Draco looked up at him, a hint of expectation in his demeanour. “Yes?” he asked, softly.  
  
“I…”  
  
A sudden gasp cut through the conversation. Harry whipped around and cursed under his breath. It seemed that Anthony had a knack for walking in on the worst of times. His boyfriend stared at them, his expression reflecting a curious blend of hurt, shock and rage.  
  
“Anthony, I…”  
  
“Don’t say  _anything!_ ” Anthony screeched, turning tail and sobbing as he ran away.   
  
Harry watched him go helplessly. Next to him, Malfoy shook his head wearily. “Honestly, that’s just overkill,” he drawled.  
  
Harry sighed, suddenly too tired to deal with either one of of them or his mangled emotions. Ever since he got on this blighted boat, it seemed his entire life had come down to refereeing Anthony and Draco. “I’ll go talk to him,” he muttered.  
  
The blond seemed to have reached the end of his rope too. “Seriously?” he exclaimed. “What about? You were having  _dinner_ , Potter. The way he acts, you’d think he caught us shagging in the men’s!”  
  
Harry ignored the shiver that travelled down his spine at the mention of shagging Malfoy. His Gryffindor side kicked in belatedly and he shook his head firmly, striving to reason with the angry blond. “I know he’s being difficult. But not everyone is like you, Draco. Not everyone is self-confident and charismatic and successful. Anthony just… he needs me.”  
  
Malfoy turned to him with a sneer. “What about you, Harry? What do  _you_  need? Him? Is that what you need?”  
  
Harry stared at him, unsure of how to respond to that. He had been comfortable with Anthony for a while. But this cruise… this  _stupid_ , crazy cruise had been one hell of an eye opener. Anthony was  _not_  what he needed. Not even close. No, what Harry needed was…  
  
“Draco…”  
  
Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His fringe fell over his eyes- eyes that were suddenly serious and without a hint of playfulness. “You’re allowed to want things, Harry. You’re allowed to go after what you want. Don’t you know that?”  
  
Harry shrugged helplessly and Draco shook his head. “Stupid Gryffindor,” he sighed, lifting a hand and running it through Harry’s hair. Harry shivered as the simple touch sent sparks down his spine. Draco smiled ruefully. “Find me when you figure out what you want.”  
  
And then he turned and left, with Harry watching helplessly as he walked further and further away.  
  
                                                                                                                  

* * *

 

True to his word, Draco stayed away from him. He didn’t seek Harry out anymore and he always found a way to make himself scarce when Harry came up on the deck. Either that, or he would surround himself with such a crowd that it was useless even thinking about approaching him. Harry didn’t try, and he resolutely ignored how much he missed Draco’s company.  
  
Anthony had recovered from his emotional breakdown well enough. Spending obscene amounts of Harry’s money seemed to life his spirits. They still weren’t speaking to each other, but Harry was fine with that. He didn’t want to speak to Anthony, and he didn’t want to spend time with him either. He had seen a whole other side of him on this trip and he didn’t like it. He was still his boyfriend though…  
  
Harry sighed as he stood out on the deck, watching some seagulls circle about the open water. The ship had docked at Barcelona for a day and several passengers were disembarking excitedly, looking forward to a day in the city. Harry planned to as well, although he wished he didn’t have to see Barcelona alone. Anthony had flat out declared that if Harry wanted to spend time with him, it would be on the ship and in the shopping gallery. Harry had half considered jumping ship there and then.   
  
Finally, he found himself skulking off the gangplank with a number of excited guests and alighting on the pier.  
  
He nearly tripped when he caught sight of Draco. The blond was by himself, sitting cross legged on the pier with his hair falling over his face as he immersed himself in conversation with…a seagull. Harry blinked and an amused grin broke out on his face as Draco gestured wildly at the disinterested bird. His spirits lifted instantly and he watched with delight as Draco bored the bird senseless, until it squawked in protest.   
  
Malfoy huffed and offered it a bread crumb before launching into a diatribe again. Harry smiled softly. Merlin, he had missed him. He approached the blond cautiously.  
  
“Tough crowd?”  
  
Draco started and looked up, his expression reflecting surprise and slight alarm. The sight of Harry made him smile hesitantly and he shrugged. “Practice,” he explained. “You can’t be too prepared.”  
  
Harry shook his head in bemusement. “You’re practicing your routine on seagulls,” he repeated incredulously.  
  
Draco raised a challenging eyebrow. “I’ll make them laugh someday. You’ll see, you cynic.”  
  
Harry couldn’t help it. He simply couldn’t leave those poor seagulls at Malfoy’s mercy. He sat down next to the blond and fished about for some bread crumbs. A bird snagged them from him and waddled off quickly, apparently done with jokes for the day.   
  
Harry sat in silence with Draco, mulling over what he had to say. “I don’t want to be unfair to anyone,” he said finally.  
  
“Of course not. Just yourself,” Draco replied.  
  
Harry gave up trying and stared into the ocean again. “Are you on your own today?”  
  
“It’s a lonely life at sea, Potter,” Draco replied with a long suffering sigh. He leaned back on his hands and regarded Harry with a lazy smirk. “What’s your excuse?”  
  
Harry sighed. “Anthony…”  
  
“And there it is,” Draco drawled. “Honestly, Potter. I just don’t get you.”  
  
Harry didn’t say anything and apparently Draco took this as an invitation to continue. “You’re  _you._ Brilliant, infuriating, noble you. Why in Merlin’s name are you even with that…” He shook his head and tossed another breadcrumb out to sea. A gull swooped for it and Harry watched in silence, as an overwhelming depression set in. He couldn’t sit here any longer. “Walk with me,” he declared. Malfoy raised an eyebrow as Harry stood.   
  
“Come see the city with me,” Harry repeated. He didn’t really know what he wanted. At the very least, he knew he didn’t want to see the city alone. Anthony wasn’t here and honestly, it was just a walk with Malfoy. It wasn’t wrong. “Please?” he added as Malfoy dithered.  
  
The blond appeared to be giving it some thought. “I don’t know, Potter,” he mused. “I had a busy day planned. Aimless wandering, asking for directions, ordering the wrong thing at a mediocre café…”  
  
Harry laughed and hauled him up. “I’m sure you’ll find some way to accommodate me, you tosser.”  
  
Draco obliged and managed a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “This is goodbye, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.  
  
Harry sighed. “I think so,” he murmured. He started as slim fingers squeezed his shoulder. “Well then,” Draco said, masking his disappointment with a rueful grin. “Let’s go see this city you’re so fond of.”  
  
Neither one saw an angry pair of brown eyes watching them leave from the ship.  
  
                                                                                     

* * *

  
  
It was one of the best days of his life. Harry found himself loving Barcelona. He had been mesmerized by  _La Sagrada Familia,_  he had enjoyed ambling down _La Rambla_  and watching the street performers and he even managed to order their  _tapas_  without too much fumbling. Draco only laughed a little bit.  
  
Now he was walking back towards the ship. They were due to leave in fifteen minutes and Harry had to admit- at least to himself- that he was sorely tempted to stay. He chewed thoughtfully on his churro as they wound their way back. The vessel was in sight a lot sooner than he hoped and Harry climbed aboard with a pang of regret. Draco clambered on after him and they stood out on the deck, looking out at the city spread out in front of them. A horn went off somewhere on the ship, signalling the time for departure. Soon, they would leave. And after that he would get off this ship and go home with Anthony and all of this would be a memory.  
  
Harry’s hands clenched the railing as the horn blew again. He  _didn’t_ want this day to end. He didn’t want to say goodbye to Draco. He didn’t want to avoid him for the rest of the voyage. And Anthony was waiting for him and he didn’t want that either. He just wanted…well, he didn’t know. Why was this so complicated?  
  
“It really isn’t, you know.”  
  
Harry started and looked at Draco. The blond was regarding him with an uncharacteristically serious look in his grey eyes. Harry belatedly realized that he’d said that last bit out loud.   
  
“It is,” he replied dully. “He needs…”  
  
Draco approached him, lifting a tentative hand to stroke Harry's fringe back. "Maybe I need you too," he whispered softly.   
  
Harry hissed as slim fingers brushed his hair.  _I need you too._  He wanted to say it back. So badly. He didn’t though. Grey eyes seemed to go right through him and a rueful smile pulled at Draco’s lips as he drew his hand back. “Well, I guess that’s that then,” he sighed.  
  
Harry felt suddenly stricken. “Draco, I…”  
  
“ _There_  you are!” a shrill voice declared suddenly. Harry turned, catching the full brunt of Anthony’s livid expression.  
  
“Oh for Merlin’s sake!” Draco groaned.  
  
Anthony marched up to them, his face tear stained and blotchy and puffed up. He pointed an accusing finger at Draco and screamed. “You…you  _boyfriend_ stealer!”  
  
Harry cringed in mortification as the crowd started gathering around them. Curious faces peered at them, accompanied by hushed muttering. The horn blew again. The ship was getting ready to leave port. Oh Merlin. Malfoy seemed unimpressed. He raised an eyebrow as Anthony continued to rant and rail and sob like a spoilt, teenage girl.  
  
“He’s  **mine,**  damn you! You’ve been trying to steal him from me ever since we got on this ship! You  _stupid_ , blond slag! How dare you…”  
  
Harry lost his tentative hold on self-control. “For Merlin’s sake, Anthony!” he snapped, not really caring about the concerned mutterings about the other passengers anymore. “What the hell has gotten into you?”  
  
“I  _saw_  you leave with him!” Anthony shrieked back, tears running down his face. Harry knew he should feel bad about it. All he felt was irritation. Supreme and complete irritation at this spoilt, childish, stupid…  
  
“We went sightseeing together,” he gritted out. “I was just catching up with an old friend. I’m not cheating on you with Draco, for fucks sake!”  
  
“ _Old friend?_ ” Anthony hissed. “ _Draco?_  Harry, I went to the same school. You were never friends with him!”  
  
“Well, maybe that’s changed,” Harry snapped. “Maybe I want to be his friend!”  
  
“Just say it!” Anthony screamed. “You want to  **fuck**  him! You want him more than you want me!”  
  
“Anyone blame him?” Draco demanded, calling out to the assembled crowd. “Show of hands!”   
  
A tentative ripple of laughter went through the crowd again. Somewhere a woman giggled and cat called. Draco shot her a wink and turned back to Anthony, daring him to say anything else. Anthony gaped before his face scrunched up again. “I want you to leave!” he spat, pointing threateningly at Draco. “Get off this ship right now! Or…or I'm going to the management and I’m getting you  _fired!”_  
  
Harry glared at Anthony, wondering what he could have possibly seen in this spoilt, stupid, screeching banshee in the first place. “You do that and we’re done,” he intoned coldly.   
  
Anthony quailed slightly but lifted his chin nevertheless. “You can’t s-stop me! I’m getting him fired if it’s the last thing I…”  
  
“Oh stop your caterwauling, you harpy,” Draco drawled. “I’ve had enough. And it just so happens that I don’t want to spend the next four days breathing the same air as you.”   
  
Harry gaped as Draco turned back to the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, you’re going to have to arrange your own entertainment from now on. I’m jumping ship. Thanks for your time; you’ve been a great audience.”  
  
And amidst gasps and groans of dismays, Draco Malfoy took a bow, gave Harry a parting nod and sauntered off the gangplank- just as the horn blew in warning again. It took Harry a good forty seconds to get hold of his faculties again. The next second, he found himself rushing for the railing.   
  
“Draco!” he called frantically as the blond grinned at him from the pier. “Get back on this ship!”  
  
Draco laughed and shrugged at him. “You get off!” he called back.  
  
“Draco, this isn’t funny! Don’t  _do_  this!” Harry hollered, banging the railing in frustration. “Get back here! I’m not leaving without you!”  
  
“Apparently you are,” Draco replied. The horn blew again and Harry cursed as the gangplank withdrew. The ship creaked and all of a sudden, they were pushing off. Harry’s hands gripped the rail as Draco moved further and further away.  
  
“Draco, no!” he shouted. “Come back!”  
  
Draco just laughed. “If you want me, then you’re going to have to do something about it Potter!” he yelled. “And fast!”  
  
“I can’t,” Harry groaned. He was too far away. They were well away from shore now. Draco stood there with his half-smile, getting smaller and smaller as the ship drew out of the harbour and Harry watched helplessly. People were talking around him, Anthony was screaming at him to  _get back here right now_. Harry tuned out the chaos; staring blankly at the man he was leaving behind…trying so hard to understand why he was leaving when he wanted to stay so badly.   
  
There was no answer. And suddenly, all he could focus on was the random memories flitting through his head like pictures.   
  
 _Anthony dragging him out for shopping.  Draco walking up on stage, a vision in confidence and grace. Anthony buying a new pair of shoes. Draco captivating an audience. Anthony smiling in delight as he slipped a tawdry bracelet on his wrist. Draco laughing as he pushed Harry playfully, feeding a seagull as he launched into another story. Anthony pouting when he didn’t get his way. Draco asking him what **he**  wanted._  
  
Harry swallowed as things slowly slid into place. Draco was a small blond dot in the horizon now. His slim arm rose in a final farewell and the sight nearly cracked Harry's heart into pieces. On the ship, people were muttering all around him.  
  
“He should’ve picked the blond.  _I_ would've picked the blond..."  
  
"Well, It’s too late now _..._ ”  
  
And just like that Harry  _knew_. He took a deep breath and turned to Anthony.   
  
“Enjoy the rest of the cruise,” he declared. “We’re through.”  
  
And then amidst Anthony’s shriek of dismay and the roaring applause from the assembled crowd, Harry James Potter catapulted over the railing and plunged into the water.  
  
                                                                       

* * *

  
  
Draco was laughing as he swam for his life, crawling up on solid land, shivering and teeth chattering. He laughed as he helped Harry out of the water and he was still laughing when he cast a Drying Charm on him. Harry scowled blearily.  
  
“W-wanker,” he managed a stuttering scolding. Draco descended into another bout of laughter, brought to his knees by the sheer force of it. Harry scowled at him, summoning up all of his indignation into telling the prat off. His plan was thwarted as Draco grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him into a kiss.  
  
Their teeth clacked and their tongues met and Harry groaned and reached for the blond, pulling him closer as he tasted him. And he could finally,  _finally_  admit that this was what he had wanted the second he had laid eyes on Draco in that dark theatre on a ship that was miles away. It was crazy and ludicrous and so not the way things were done. But then Draco was laughing against his mouth again and kissing him and Harry just didn’t give a shit.  
  
“You stupid, brilliant idiot. I can’t believe you did that!” Draco said, as he finally pulled away for breath. He was panting and flushed and his hair was all over the place and he just looked so damn beautiful that Harry grabbed hold of him again, bracing himself against Draco's shoulders as he plundered his mouth again. It seemed like ages had passed when he finally drew away.  
  
“I wanted to,” Harry whispered, brushing his lips against the blond’s. “Merlin, I don’t think I've ever wanted anything more.”  
  
Draco laughter faded but a soft smile remained on his lips. “Me too,” he murmured, brushing back Harry’s damp hair again.   
  
And then they were laughing again. Harry wrapped an arm around him and Draco curled against him, grinning into Harry’s shoulder as they watched the ocean. “This is some great new material for my act, you know,” he pointed out.  
  
Harry smiled and nuzzled against his hair. A seagull perched in front of them, shrilling for food. Harry laughed. “You might as well practice before I apparate us back to London,” he offered.  
  
“One step ahead of you, Potter,” Draco grinned, fishing out a bag of breadcrumbs from his pocket.  


* * *

  
**Two months later…**

  
“So you know, all I’m saying is...buy me dinner first, yeah?”  
  
Ron scowled as the crowd in the Leaky Cauldron burst into laughter and scattered applause. Next to him, Pansy was thumping the table as she tried to breathe.  
  
“He’s not that funny,” he declared sullenly. Pansy raised an eyebrow at him. Up on stage, Malfoy grinned and took a bow. “Thank you, you’ve been a great audience,” he announced, departing from the stage amidst enthusiastic applause.  
  
“You’re just mad that he offered to  _Aguamenti_  your hair,” Pansy pointed out smugly.  
  
Ron gave up arguing and scowled his wife. “You could have warned me he was going to be part of your plan, you know,” he declared.  
  
“Yes, that would have worked out splendidly,” Pansy smirked. She laughed as her husband continued to sulk. “Oh stop it. He’s better than Goldstein.”  
  
“He’s Malfoy!” Ron groaned.   
  
“He is,” Pansy agreed happily. “And he’s perfect for Potter, admit it.”  
  
“I will do no such…”  
  
“ _Look_ , Ron.”  
  
Ron turned around, catching sight of Harry at the bar. His green eyes lit up as Malfoy approached him and he extended a welcoming arm, wrapping it around the blond as soon as he was within reach. Malfoy laughed and rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, saying something that made him grin again. Ron watched his friend, smiling and laughing and just…being happy. With Malfoy.  
  
Just sodding perfect.  
  
“That’s my boy,” Pansy murmured softly, gazing fondly at the couple.  
  
Ron gave up. Oh well, at least this one was funny. Ish.  
  
“I'll learn to live with it,” he grumbled.  
  
“I’m so proud of you,” Pansy smirked, shoving a brochure at him. “By the way, he’s performing three nights a week and we’re coming to every single one.”  
  
Ron groaned and slumped back on the table, even as Harry’s laughter filled the air again.  
  
 **END**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cruising the Course of Fate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1372108) by [Lomonaaeren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lomonaaeren/pseuds/Lomonaaeren)




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